


The Devil You Know

by surskitty



Category: Devilman (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Anal Sex, Canon - Manga, Devilman Army, Hate Sex, Large Cock, M/M, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-22 15:08:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14311368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surskitty/pseuds/surskitty
Summary: Akira works off his frustrations.  It's hard running an army.  It's worse when your enemies make better allies than the people you actually like.





	The Devil You Know

**Author's Note:**

  * For [terminus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/terminus/gifts).



> I hope you meant it when you said you enjoy all the iterations of Akira and Ryou! Crybaby roughly followed the manga plot, but the OVA characterisation was much closer to the manga's, and the manga's what I could wrap my head around.
> 
> Two notes: it's manga canon that it took twenty years for humanity to be wiped out and for demons and devilmen to fight against each other in earnest (with this being set towards the start of that 20 year period), and also there are a bunch of buddhist monks who became devilmen who have incredible psychic powers. They're good.
> 
> I used male pronouns for Satan because Akira knew Satan as a guy. It's not meant to be any statement on Satan's gender.

Akira never wanted to be a general, but he is anyway. Humanity shouldn’t have needed protecting, but they’re past _shoulds_ and he’s washed his hands of them. His fellow devilmen need him.

He leaves on his own one evening, unable to pretend he’s okay enough to keep them from worrying, and sniffs out trouble. The area around Miki’s grave is the devilman army’s territory, but there are always a few humans who recognize the devilmen aren’t a threat to them and stay nearby. Akira doesn’t care either way anymore, so long as they don’t cause trouble for his friends, but the humans attract demons and they’ll stay _out_ of here. The Makimuras might have died by human hands, but Akira won’t forget who set off humanity’s paranoia.

There. To the east, the stench of smoke. He spreads his wings and takes flight, tacking as necessary to stay within cloud cover, but he knows they’ll be dead by the time he gets there. The world is too cruel for anything else.

As he gets close, he has to swoop down to avoid an arrow, and for fuck’s sake he’s not who they should be shooting at! He folds his wings and dives out of their sight, aiming for where the scent of blood is strongest, and his stomach rumbles. He needs _meat,_ but there’s not much of that to be found off of demons, and he’s not ready to go that far. He still has a human heart, after all.

He lands next to a pile of rubble that he thinks might have been a school and roars a challenge. A smart demon would run.

These ones aren’t smart. He waits long enough for any human survivors to hide, then charges through a wall, squashing demon number one without even trying. Demon number two tries pouncing on him, but Akira is the _strongest,_ bucko, and he catches it in one hand and squeezes 'til the candy comes out. It smells completely delicious, and he licks his face clean before he realizes what he’s doing. No, that’s disgusting, he reminds himself, and he bounds off.

And finds what he hates most. One dead demon, but _three_ dead humans, and a coward trying to negotiate with the surviving demons to save their own miserable skin. It pisses him off. People like that don’t belong in this world, and he breathes fire before charging in. He doesn’t think he’s the one to kill the human, but he doesn’t much care so long as he turns these demons into mush, their viscera coating his claws and sticking in his fur until they’re all dead and he’s all alone.

He’s usually alone, these days. Everyone he loved is dead, except for one, and that one’s not worth it. Ryou’s not worth much of anything; when it came down to it, he turned traitor, and Akira will never forgive him.

He cleans up enough to keep the dead from reeking and burns what he has to, then settles in to cry away from where his soldiers can see. He can’t take his human form here, away from camp, unless he wants to sit around naked, but that’s okay. All he needs it for anymore is to pretend for the other devilmen he’s not broken, that he’s just as capable of having hope in humanity as they are. He isn’t.

Staying in his devilman form means his eyebrows keep twitching, his antenna on the lookout for threats even as he lets himself doze, and he feels a familiar power. Satan, probably stalking him again; he hasn’t given up on getting Akira to defect, though anyone could tell it’s hopeless. Everything is the demons’ faults, after all.

Ryou, if you wanted devilmen to join you, then maybe you shouldn’t have encouraged humans to hate them. Akira’s not the only one past talking this out.

“Akira!” Satan calls, and despite himself, Akira looks up, his huge ears listening for threats. Satan’s got an entourage, just like he always does, but they’re weenies like the ones Akira just killed. Boring.

“I have nothing to say to you,” he says, and his weak psi is still enough to hear Satan tell his demons to disperse, like it even makes a difference.

“Akira,” he says again, and would he get the point? Akira’s wanted nothing to do with him for a long time, not since that broadcast, not since Miki died, but here they are again and Akira still can’t hate him as much as he deserves.

“What,” he snaps, and he should really leave, Satan impossible to trust even for a brief conversation, but he doesn’t. He’s too tired.

He’s been tired, years of fighting too much for _anyone,_ and none of them have anyone to fight for except each other. Satan knows it, too, looking him over like he used to do after their demon hunts, and reaches a verdict: “You look like shit.”

What a fucking coincidence: he feels like shit. “You look like an asshole,” he tells him, and Satan glances down at himself like he doesn’t know why. Wings, tits, dick: that’s all a fucking asshole if you ask Akira, and the guy shifts to look like a different asshole, trashy outfit and all.

Heh. Akira’s not fooled: Ryou hasn’t been his friend for a long time, and he’ll tear Satan a new one if he tries acting like it. All that’s left are the dregs, the worst bits Akira never wanted to see, and Akira’s going to take away everything he stands for. “You put lipstick on a pig, it’s still a pig,” he adds, and he’d like to make Satan squeal.

“I was going to protect humanity with you,” he says, conversational, and he did for a while. It changes nothing. “Akira, they’re not worth it. Stop fighting, and --”

He talks too much. Akira grabs him around the neck with his eyebrows, and he thinks Satan thought he’d let him finish his monologue. What, like Akira was going to argue? What happened to the Makimuras, what was happening to the devilmen before Akira found his peers – humanity sucks ass, and the ones who’re worth anything all die. Doesn’t mean he’ll – and Ryou grabs his tentacles back, his hands burning with holy light, and Akira grits his teeth and tries to hold on.

Neither of them are the type to give up and die, and Akira tries to get the leverage to throw him as Ryou sears him. Come on, squeeze – but it hurts too much and he lets go, roaring and breathing fire. Ryou says something pointless again, but Akira’s past giving a shit: he charges with a punch to the face as Ryou draws his old sawed-off rifle and shoots.

The guy’s aiming for his weak points, but it ain’t gonna work. Akira’s nostalgia is cold and dead and he knows that if it gets serious, Satan can pull in enough demons to cause even him trouble. The problem is Akira’s not sure he cares. No, what he wants is Satan’s head on a pike just like Miki’s was, and he charges again. Ryou’s faster than he was when he thought he was human, able to teleport on a whim, and he’s got that same manic glee he had at that fateful Sabbath, but Akira’s a creation of war with no purpose left but to fight and he’s not going down easy.

And then Ryou calls up a trident for him to impale himself on and it’s all kind of moot, ain’t it. Fucking stupid way to go, but he’s been tired, and he can tell Ryou’s got good aim: didn’t nick any organs; 's all in the muscle where his devilman body can fix it with time he doesn’t have. (He’s seen people get infections. It’s not how he wants to go.)

“That was easier than it should have been,” Ryou muses, and he can go fuck himself. “You’re supposed to be the strongest, Akira; have you been taking care of yourself?”

Kinda hard to do when the sky’s darkened with smoke and the only meat for miles is on people. “What the fuck do you think,” he snaps. He can’t sleep and he can’t find food, and oh, yeah, _both the demons and humans want to kill all his friends._

Ryou sighs, and shoots Akira through the wing membrane before he can try lunging at him like an angry boar. The pain’s awful, but he’s had worse and he’s not gonna get the devilmen looking for him when Satan’ll go through them like paper. “Behave and I’ll get you meat,” he says. Akira spits at him. “ _Deer,_ Akira. There are plenty on the mainland.”

Well, Akira doesn’t care about the mainland. Akira’s got to protect Miki’s grave, asshole, and not even all of Japan’s within a day’s flying distance. “Not doing shit for you,” he informs him, 'cause he ain’t sure Satan noticed. Once upon a time, all he needed was to be told to come and he went, but that was a long time ago.

“You’ll be back before they know you left,” he adds, which is a total lie. Akira knows the monks are probably freaking out right now; they just won’t risk the army when Akira’s the only one who has a chance here. “Akira.”

Fuck off. “What.”

“Stop destroying yourself.”

“Tell the demons to fuck off and I’ll consider it.”

They’re at an impasse, and they both know it. Satan could kill him right now, but he ain’t gonna, 'cause he thinks Akira’ll cool off eventually, but he doesn’t get that Akira won’t. Akira _can’t._ He has nothing to go back to and no one worthy of saving.

But Ryou still doesn’t want to kill him, and Akira hisses as Ryou pulls the trident out. The guy’s watching him like he knows Akira’s not going to give up, so he’s got _some_ sense, but he stays put as Akira lumbers over to loom over him, bleeding all the while. He thinks he’s not in danger, the confident asshole, and Akira gets close enough for the guy to feel his hot breath without him doing more than tilting his head up to keep watching him.

“You’re still incredible,” he observes, raising his hand to touch Akira’s chest, and he lost that right a long time ago. “Has your army noticed?”

“I’m a fine piece of ass,” he lies, but honestly it’s been a long time since he’s touched anyone, and he thinks Ryou knows it. The fact Akira hasn’t broken his arm might be a clue, and the truth is this clumsy-ass seduction attempt is the first time in a while Akira’s had the option without thinking his partner might dissociate halfway through. All their human hearts are broken.

And Ryou keeps looking at him, and Akira keeps not tearing his head off. “Your dick’s out,” he comments after a glance down, and Akira tackles him away, suddenly tired of his shit. Ryou doesn’t go near as far as he should’ve, and Akira reminds himself this is Satan, not his old friend. But he’s too tired to fight right now, and Ryou’s amused, not offended. “You can have human reason without being dead, Akira.”

Not if the demons get their way, he can’t, but he knows not all of the devilmen are on his side. He also knows the term for a group of demons is a Sabbath, and it’s disgusting that Ryou thinks Akira’s just as easy as the demons Ryou commands. But Ryou’s here when all Akira wants is to lick his own wounds and wank off his bloodlust, and he flicks his tail. “My ‘human reason’ says I should rip your head off,” he counters, and his demonic volatility agrees. Rip it off and shove his dick in what’s left; kill him and cry for everything that’s gone. But there’s no point, not without backup, and Ryou carefully approaches him again.

“Akira,” he tries, raising his hand, but Akira growls deep in his throat and tackles the guy, shoving him down. Ryou could run, Akira knows, or kill him without really trying, but he seems to realize Akira’s only got so much rage when there’s nobody to protect and he lets Akira pin him.

“Don’t talk,” he orders, and Ryou rolls his eyes. He shifts back into the form of Satan, though, and Akira _snarls,_ his arm slicing Satan’s breast as he holds him down. It’s no surprise: Ryou is Satan and Satan is Ryou and he’s known this, known that his best friend is his most hated enemy, and he loves them both, just like he knows Satan still loves him. But it doesn’t matter, their sides chosen and lines crossed, and he thinks Satan is hard, too.

He and Satan stare at each other, both waiting for the other to move, and Akira lunges to bite one of his head-wings, the feathers dry in his mouth but the blood sweet enough he wants more. Satan hisses, but Akira’s not biting hard enough to crush bone and he deals with it, letting Akira mark him as he pulls him close, his legs around Akira’s thighs as he makes himself damn clear what he wants Akira to do to him.

Akira shouldn’t. He really, really fucking shouldn’t, and the awareness another devilman might find out almost makes him want to stop, but the worst thing is he knows they’d _understand._ All of them have people who have died, but too many have people they care about who made the wrong decisions, and it’s no secret the grudge between him and Satan is personal. No, he’s not betraying anyone, and hot tears fall down his face as he chews on the wing to make Satan feel a fraction as bad as he himself does.

But he’s not aiming to maim, not this time, and he pulls away enough to look at Satan’s flushed face and spit a feather onto it. The guy’s brow furrows, and more when he sees Akira’s been crying, but he doesn’t say anything, and Akira feels him sneak his arms around Akira’s sides to caress him. Akira tenses, because how could he _not,_ but there’s no malice in the action and it’s been so long. “I really fucking hate you,” he says, and it would be so much easier if Satan hated him back.

“Akira,” he starts, and Akira covers his mouth. Whatever he’s going to say, Akira doesn’t want to hear it, and he waits for Satan to give up on talking before removing his hand and kissing him. Satan kisses back almost immediately, desperate like he knows Akira probably won’t let him do this again, and Akira growls as he deliberately tears up Satan’s lips with his teeth. He’s meaner than he used to be _(he didn’t used to be mean at all)_ but he can’t bring himself to care. He’ll be good for the other devilmen, but Satan …

Satan deserves everything he might do to him, and he hears the guy groan into it, the pain of no consequence. His fingers dig into Akira’s back with ease, and he cants up to grind his cock against Akira’s abs. Akira can take a hint when it’s put on fucking international TV, and he reaches down with the arm not pinning the guy’s tits to feel for his ass. He’s got wings down there, too, and he thinks Satan might be keeping them a few centimeters off the ground.

His ass is the same size it was when he was Ryou, and Akira’s a bit relieved: he’s seen how huge Satan gets in battle, and he’s letting Akira have what control he can. He could tear Satan’s balls off right now, his claws brushing against Satan’s perineum, and he notices he stopped kissing the guy long enough for him to say Akira’s name again. Ugh.

“I said don’t talk,” he reminds him, and he punctuates it with a bite to his neck, just below where his feathers meet skin. Satan groans, calling his name again, and Akira flicks his tail to cut at Satan’s ankles. “Ryou,” he adds, and then Satan’s the one kissing him to keep him from talking.

He slips a claw into Satan’s ass, testing, and it’s easy enough he doesn’t think the guy needs stretching. He might _want_ it, but he’s lucky Akira’s bothering with him at all, and Akira curls his body to get his dick roughly in line. Whatever Amon fused with, that guy ended up _hung,_ and Akira reaps the rewards: a tapered member almost as long as his human arm, and his tip smears pre all over Satan’s thighs without even needing to work at it.

Satan knows what he’s up to, and he pulls away enough to sigh contentedly as Akira slips himself in. “Oh, Akira,” he says, something complicated on his face, and he gently reaches for Akira’s head wings, telegraphing his movements so as to not startle him. Akira tenses anyway, but Satan’s fingers feel good where he never thinks to scritch in this form, and Satan doesn’t want to kill Akira nearly as much as Akira wants to kill him.

He shifts his weight to get a good grip on one of Satan’s breasts, and he fondles it gently as he eases his cock in. He goes slow as a petty revenge, desperate to assert every way he’s not a demon, but Satan uses his wings as leverage to fuck himself on Akira’s cock, engulfing a handspan like a pro. Akira yelps, but Satan’s smug and Akira’s not going to complain, the hot pressure so much better than anything he can do himself.

“You can be rough,” Satan reminds him, like there’s not blood on his face right now, and Akira leans forward to lick some of it off. He’ll be as rough as he damn well pleases, and he pulls his waist back before pushing back in, so slow that his thighs quiver from effort, because he knows his cock gets thick fast and he wants Satan to feel every bit of stretch, to know that despite everything that’s happened that Akira still cares. He fucking hates him, but he cares and he’s not going to treat him like just a hole to fill.

No, he’s going to make him squirm, and he pushes down in the right spot to get Satan’s eyes to water from overstimulation before he pulls out almost to the tip, keeping his length carefully curled the whole time. Satan nearly kicks him, and his fingers dig into Akira’s ear, but it’s worth it, and he watches their dicks as he slides back in. Satan’s keeps twitching, basically untouched, but Akira’s is slick from his sheath’s fluids and he presses in much faster than before as Satan’s ass eats him right up.

Satan himself keeps cursing, a litany of _fuck fuck fuck_ without him even thinking about it, and it’d be hilarious if it didn’t make Akira so sad. He wishes for his old friend back, but that’s not happening, and Satan sees his face and kisses him like that’ll make anything better. It’s almost childish, but Akira bites him again and that’s very much not. He keeps pushing his dick in and he doesn’t have a clue how it all fits in there, the thing as wide as Satan’s bicep and long enough he can feel it curling, but in it goes and Satan’s definitely enjoying himself.

Akira, though, Akira can’t even tell how he’s supposed to thrust, but the pressure all along his length’s so good, so he keeps going and experimentally tries to wiggle from side to side. Satan’s cock erupts with a hiss, a human amount of semen spurting up onto Akira’s fur and Satan’s breasts, and Akira stares in disbelief.

He didn’t think – but Satan snaps a, “Keep going,” to him and he does, rolling his hips to get some kind of momentum, and he feels Satan clench around him, firm and thorough to draw out an orgasm from Akira, too. He can’t – but he feels himself gushing as his fluids push himself out, and he shakes hard, Satan holding his shoulder through it. He feels filthy, and he bets he looks it, too, but his eyes and other senses fall half-closed and it’s so good to not need to think. He won’t be killed in the afterglow.

Satan gently nudges him, but only enough to get his bulk off him, their legs entwined and covered with come, and he wonders which one of them will ruin it first. Their pride won’t let them compromise. “You need to survive,” Satan murmurs, like Akira has any reason to, but his face is so soft Akira doesn’t raise the point. Satan knows he hates him, anyway.

“My army needs food,” he says instead, and Satan’s gaze sharpens. Not at the admission of weakness – Satan’s too conceited for that – but at the idea he has anything to offer him, and he wonders if Satan knows devilmen eat demons. It’s the circle of life, after all.

“Does humanity not respect their saviors?” he says, rhetorical, and Akira puts his claws on Satan’s face. He’s not tearing the pretty boy up just yet, but that can change, and Satan narrows his eyes before calling, “Psychogenie.”

Fuck, fuck, _fuck,_ and Akira’s scrambling away and mentally calling for the monks before she can wreck his head. When Satan goes, he goes hard, and Akira’s glad he didn’t shrink down to his old form as he takes a battle stance.

The demon in question appears before Satan without ceremony, more than strong enough to teleport, but she takes only a moment’s notice of him before focusing on her master. “Lord Satan,” she says simply, and Satan sits up enough to lean back like he’s king of the world, no matter that he’s disheveled and bloody from sex and still got come on his chest.

“Our armies were too enthusiastic,” Satan says, like that’s the problem, but it means Akira isn’t at risk of brainwashing and he lets the monks know. “Remind them that we aren’t the only ones hunting, and transport a few deer herds into this area. We’ll be moving on soon enough.”

If Psychogenie finds the order odd, she says nothing, only bowing and disappearing again. Akira’s ears prick as the monks report more animal life nearby: she’s following through. In exchange, Akira will … Akira will do whatever the hell he wants, and Satan knows that.

Akira shifts down to his human form, uncaring of his nudity, and offers Satan his hand. “I won’t let demons take this world,” he warns him, and Satan inclines his head, taking his hand and letting Akira help him up, no matter that he’s probably steadier than Akira is.

“Stay alive until the end,” Satan says back, and his hand is warm.

Akira leaves him anyway.


End file.
